Declaration of Independence
by milkduds100
Summary: Qaletaqa (A LETA QWA) George Sherman, born from a French father and Native American mother in the US, lived a life of sensual pleasures and carnal pursuits while a member of the French Foreign Legion. After coming to a new world filled with strife, oppression and involuntary service; will he forsake personal gain and sin in order to lead a people to a brighter future?
1. Chapter 1: March or Die

**Summary: **Born and raised in the US to a French father and Native American mother, Qaletaqa (A LETA QWA) George Sherman is a member of the French Foreign Legion. After getting sent on a mission in Somalia, him and his men come under attack by Somali pirates and systematically killed one by one. France does not care for the Legion, it is better they die than real French soldiers. Somehow though, Qaletaqa survived, and is sent to another world. Now he must choose whether to fight and die for a purpose or forsake everything he has for wealth and pleasure.

This is going to be an interesting story I've had on my mind for a while. I really liked General RTS's Drifter series, at least the concept (Though the story itself was very good) and I wanted to do something similar. I want to focus on different themes, mainly the political aspect of forming a new country. So it will go through similar stages as his, starting with the revolution, then the forming of the country but unlike his it will focus more on politics and the problems of creating a nation. The military aspect will only really be there as a part of the political aspect. While normally politics can be boring (And a pain in the fucking ass) but I feel that I can make it work, especially amid the bigotry and caste of the ZNT/FOZ universe.

Obviously, if I owned the rights to ZNT/FOZ not only would I not be doing this, but I would have made it reach its potential (Or run it into the ground, which ever comes first).

**Chapter 1: **

**March or Die **

"Take Cover!" I shouted over the deafening sounds of gunshots and combat as an RPG propelled over the small stone wall that was currently protecting me from AK fire. The following explosion behind me made my ears ring and my stomach churn from the blast wave, disorienting me and making it difficult to stand on my own two feet. It's times like this I miss my time in the US Military when we had leaders who actually gave a damn about us.

"Commandant, we're getting hit from all sides!" My Sous LT. (Second LT.) shouted over to me, holding his arm with care as blood oozed from the open wound in his shoulder.

"Get a Sniper on the roof and an MG in the front, focus all fire there to break through the line and we'll retreat!" I yelled back. He nodded and began issuing my orders to the rest of my Battalion. We were stuck in Bakool, on the Western border of Somalia in a small stone structure just bordering a tropical like jungle. Unfortunately, the Jungle is where we came from, considering our mission became compromised and we're now being chased by a thousand Somali rebels.

Most of the rebels were unorganized, the only reason they're working together now is because they happened to have heard the commotion and wanted to spill American blood (While not realizing that we're FRENCH... Well, we earned French Citizenship through service.). Unfortunately though Command will only spare us minimal resources considering the Legion does not have nearly the respect in the National French Military and because of bullshit bureaucracy, no politician or citizen cares much for us.

"More incoming to the right!" My LT. yelled. He took a knee right next to me and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I don't know what we're going to do Qaletaqa, we're completely outnumbered!" He said loudly. Due to his French descent, the former small time offender had a habit of pronouncing my Native American born name incorrectly. He always pronounced it A LEHTA QWA with a thick accent compared to how my mother would and her tribe would say it.

"That's Commandant!" I yelled back, asserting my Rank. "And I get the fucking picture! Get a squad of men to reinforce the right Flank!" I said.

"Monsieur, we can't... if we pull anymore men from their positions our left flank will fall." He yelled back. From the moment he said that I knew that there was no way we were getting through this alive. A bullet impacted the corner of the wall that I hid behind and bits of concrete and debris blasted into my face, creating small scrapes along my right cheek.

"Than shut the hell up and die without any fucking ammo!" I screamed, intending for this to be my final glorious moment in combat.

I lifted up my FAMAS and laid down heavy 5.56 MM fire down range at the approaching rebels. I aimed down the ACOG sight which was mounted a little higher than I was used to thanks to the carry handle on the top of the gun, and began accurately acquiring targets. I'm not very good at distancing but I'd say they were no more than 100 Meters away, through the slightly zoomed scope I could even barely make out the whiteness of their eyes in contrast to their ash black skin.

One man fell down in a spray of blood after a round impacted his chest, hitting him right in the solar plexus and killing him almost instantly. Normally shots like those cause severe internal trauma that people loose contagiousness in under 15 seconds, which by many is considered instant death. Switching my sights elsewhere I aimed at another man, this one with long disgusting hair that looked like it was bathed in crude oil and left to dry in the baking sun. After pulling the hair trigger he went down like a rag-doll, the top of his head coming clean off from the bullet grazing his crown.

I took out an M67 Frag Grenade which I duct taped to a small stick to make a kind of stick Grenade, and moved my arm back, ready to throw. Taking a good judge of the distance I heaved the Grenade over my shoulder; the extra leverage of the stick gave me considerably more difference than normal. It got to around 80 to 90 Meters away, getting almost right in front of the advancing rebels. The following explosion covered the men in shrapnel but they were just far enough to survive the blast while also getting disoriented. Most of them fell to the ground, writhing in pain and agony but the ones behind them escaped the worst of it. The worst they got was disorientation from the blast and some even puked because of the blast.

"Monsieur, we're completely defenseless out here!" My Sous LT. said again. I grabbed him hard by the collar and told him straight out...

"If you don't have the Cock to die in combat than you're useless to me!" I yelled. I've always been told that I have a self destructive nature, but what can you expect from me? After all, I was a criminal before my time in the Legion, the only reason I joined was to get rid of my criminal charges and do what I do best... killing and debauchery.

I threw my Sous LT. back and he looked at me like one would a mad man. Normally, someone of my past wouldn't get this high into the ranks but the higher ups saw potential in me due to my past experience and reputation in the US Military.

"Either turn your guns on the enemy or turn them on yourself, either way if this is how we die than we die fighting!" I screamed. Discarding my now empty FAMAS I took out my MAC Mle 50 9MM pistol and charged into open ground, the rebels now within 50 yards of the compound. I grimaced as I felt a round or two impact my plated body armor (Which I knew was fracturing a rib or two) but the adrenalin I was experiencing made them nothing more than minor annoyances.

Taking aim I began to empty my magazine at the bastards, hitting a few of them in the torso and limbs before my 9 round magazine emptied. My training and experience completely dwarfed their pathetic excuse for skills and giving me a massive advantage, even with so many guns pointed at me. I quickly reloaded a new mag, in the back of my mind thinking I broke my personal record for speed, and continued firing.

I fell to my knees as a round grazed my outer left thigh, causing a deep cut but relatively low damage. I aimed again, this time on my knees and kept up my firepower. Unfortunately without a stable platform my accuracy was seriously lacking and I was missing, even as they got withing 20 Meters of me.

Another shot grazed my left shoulder, causing me to grunt in pain and hiss as another mag ran out. I could barely move my left arm to shoot anymore... which was a severe problem considering the fact that I'm left handed. The rebels saw that I couldn't reload an instead of shooting again they just began to run at me. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of killing me up close I took out my second to last Grenade and pulled the pin. With a small gesture with my hand I motioned for the bastards to come close.

As they got closer they began to walk, seeing that I was no longer a threat and confident that what's left of my men probably were over run by now. Letting a smirk play across my face I let go of the Grenade and the lever came flying off, igniting the fuse. The men realized too late about my suicide plan and froze in complete fear. As the seconds ticked by I opened my eyes to see that the Grenade fell to the ground and did not go off, probably a dud.

"Fuck me..." I muttered, knowing that the rebels wouldn't give me nearly enough time to pull out another one. The last thing I remember of that day was an AK stock that nailed me right in my face. I didn't even feel any pain or register what happened at all.

* * *

Normally when you wake up from a head injury you remember next to nothing about what happened right before it happened, however for me it was a little different. As I slept I kept replaying what happened over and over in the form of dreams and nightmares. Apart of me knew something was a miss, like I was dreaming or something and I vaguely wondered if I was in Hell, being force to relive my death over and over again. Although I "Felt" everything I was dulled and did not really register any pain in the dream.

As I opened my eyes I knew that I'm either in Heaven; which was the most unlikely due to my past; Hell or still alive and in a torture chamber of the rebels. Considering my options I think I'd like Heaven a little better, then again I never really believed in Heaven. I myself believe in Native American Spirituality, due to my upbringing in my Mother's Tribe.

I knew that this place was far too good to be a place of torture or eternal torment due to the fact that it smelled like roses and other unidentifiable flowers. Normally I'm pretty good at telling specific plants apart by smell but these were unfamiliar to me, which made sense since I still didn't have a good lay of the land in Somalia.

For the next hour or two I was drifting in and out of sleep, occasionally feeling a strange silky golden hair brush against my mouth and face. I also occasionally heard small feet on a wooden surface, too light and delicate to be a man's foot and the strides were relatively small, implying that this person was on the shorter side.

Sometimes I felt a strange kind of calmness go over my wounds, making them feel much better and acting almost like a sedative, but not as numb feeling. I occasionally sighed at the feeling, hearing a small eep from whoever was tending to me.

Finally, my eyes opened and stayed that way, the darkness of sleep being shoved away from my own determination and will to find out where the hell I was. The first thing I saw was a very beautiful girl, who looked to be in her teenage years. She had long blonde hair under a white sunhat that looked modified to bend over the side of her head. She had on a very small green dress and some kind of strange ripped white leggings.

I knew this girl couldn't be a native here. White women, especially one as young and beautiful as her, do not stay that way for long in this kind of environment. Either they are brutally imprisoned, raped or killed by the Somali rebels. Another strange thing was here outfit, which matched nothing like what other Somali people wore at all. It was too bright, clean and vibrant to really belong in this dirt ball corner of the world.

She didn't even appear to notice me as she was just sitting at her table and was writing in what looked to be a journal or diary. She had her delicate legs crossed and her face was scrunched up in the kind of look that implied that she was focusing on what ever it was she was writing. Occasionally she leaned back a bit and giggled at whatever it was that she wrote on her journal.

After about a minute or two of staring at her, she finally noticed my presence. Slowly turning her head towards me, she locked her eyes with mine and smiled warmly, tilting her head to the side in a cute manner. She uncrossed her legs and stood up from the chair, making a small creaking sound from the wooden chair and floor. She came over to me and put a hand on my forehead, as if to check for my temperature.

"You seem to be fine now, are you feeling better?" She asked in a cute and innocent tone, putting me at ease with her presence. Something about this girl screamed the "Girl next door" and she seemed so innocent that it was impossible that she was anywhere near Eastern Africa. However, he most astonishing feature was he massive breast size, which looked almost ridiculous on her slender figure but at the same time seemed to work.

"Nice rack." I blurted out with a serious expression. Although I said that in English, she seemed to have understood me and replied in English as well. She smiled again before saying.

"Why thank you, it took me a few days to carve it out perfectly." She motioned to her shelf on the side of the room. I raised my eyebrow, laughing on the inside since doing the action would have been painful. I couldn't tell if she was this naive or being a smart ass about my comment. I was also surprised that she knew any English at all, again in this part of the world it would be rare to find any American or European speaking people who weren't trying to gut you.

"Where am I?" I asked, wanting to get an idea of my surroundings. I began to sit up but she gently pushed me back onto the bed while shaking her head.

"You can't get up just yet, you're still hurt and I've had a bit of trouble trying to heal you." She said with a stern expression, the kind a mother would give to her child when she was serious about something.

"I'm fine, I just need to get my blood flowing and some vodka and I'll be perfectly fine." I said, trying in vain to fight against her gentle strength.

"Forgive me sir, but you are far to hurt to move around. Sleep for another day and you''l be able to get back up with no trouble." He eyes narrowed in motherly determination as she fought against my own strength. Though normally overpowering a girl like this would have been child's play, something about her made me fall back down. Glad my father didn't see this, he probably would have disowned me... again.

"One day." I said finally, letting the oblivion of sleep overtake me and plunge my world into blackness once again. Though this time it was not nearly as bad.

* * *

"AHHH!" I jumped up from my bed as I heard a feminine scream come from outside of the building I was in. Unlike last time I did not remember what happened prior to falling asleep so I assumed the worst and looked around for any kind of weapon to use. In the corner I saw a small kitchen knife that looked like it would be used in a Colonial re-enactment. Taking it in a reverse like grip I ran outside of the small building and was amazed at what I saw.

Much of Eastern Africa is mainly jungle and desert area's with very few settlements, mostly small tribes and primitive cities unless you go to European occupied areas. There it almost looked like a forest you would find in the Isle of Britain, which looked more like the set to Robin Hood than on the African continent.

To my left I saw a blonde haired girl... wait, that was the same girl who healed me from yesterday. She was being attacked by 2 men in strange armor with green under clothes. They looked like something out of a renaissance fair than anywhere this far South.

"Listen woman, we have to confiscate your property for the Albion Military, failing to do so will risk execution by the courts." The man said, his voice slightly muffled by the plated visor on his face.

"Please forgive me, but this home was given to me by my mother." The girl said with tears streaking down he face.

Normally I don't get involved in these kinds of things, I've seen enough crap over the years that I really don't care what happens to other people anymore. They could kill her in cold blood and the most I would feel is a bit of annoyance from having my morning ruined. But... the girl did take me in and nurse me back to health, even though she probably shouldn't have. If anything I am honorable and service like that requires payment.

I ran up to one of the men and did a powerful front kick, knocking him on his ass and forcing his buddy to turn towards me. Before he could even react however, I turned and jabbed the knife into the gap between his chest and shoulder armor, taking away his ability to properly use his arm. With another move I lifted my foot and slammed it on the first guys face as he was down, awkwardly twisting his neck but luckily for him it did little damage other than a sprain.

The second guy drew his sword with his one hand, which was some kind of old Saber, and tried to slash at me. Thinking quickly i shortened the gap between us, blocking his arm with my own and stopping the blade. With a quick twist I snapped his elbow at the joint, removing his ability to use his other arm.

After I released him both men got away from me and looked at me with fire in their eyes. Deciding to cut their losses they turned tail and ran away like little bitches.

"Fuck you." I flipped them off as they ran. Turning my head to the girl who was motionless on the ground, I gave her a nod and began my trip back into the hut.

"Wait." She said in a small voice, still recovering from the assault. She grabbed at my bear arm (Which was exposed since I was in a short sleeve shirt) and looked up at me with grateful eyes. "Thank you sir." She said. I shrugged her off and went back into the hut. I took a seat at the table and motioned for her to take a seat, which she did so without question. She seemed a little intimidated by me but otherwise was ok with my forceful nature.

"As I asked yesterday." I began, recalling in perfect detail yesterdays events. "Where the hell am I? This place can't be Africa so who brought me here?" The girl looked at me curiously.

"Tiffania." She smiled and held out her hand.

"Where the hell is Tiffania?" I asked. She giggled and shook her head.

"That's my name." She said sweetly.

"Did I ask for it?" I replied harshly.

"No, but i felt as if you should know." Her smile was beginning to irritate me for some reason.

"Are you going to answer my question or should I find out myself?" I asked again.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" She asked innocently, to which I growled slightly. "Forgive my rudeness." She said. "You're in the Kingdom of Albion, I found you in the woods a few days ago."

"Albion?" I tested the name on my tongue. "Don't you mean Albania?" I asked but she shook her head. Standing up from her chair, she went to her drawer and pulled out a piece of paper that looked like a map.

"No, Albion." She pointed to an island on the North Western part of the map. It was crude but it looked vaguely familiar to Europe, if completely inaccurate. Granted, the shape of maps tend to be distorted because of turning a 3 dimensional image into a 2-D one, but this is borderline elementary school ignorance.

"That's the UK sweetheart." I said. She laughed at me, as if I was an ignorant child and told me...

"No, I've never heard of it called that. This is the floating Island of Albion, home to the Tudor line... or at least was." her voiced trailed away at that.

"Listen kid, enough with the fantasy shit, just tell me where I am right now." I said even more sternly, given off all my killer intent towards the young girl, who brushed it off like she was my own mother.

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought." She said in a condescending tone, though I could tell she didn't mean it to come out that way.

"Right..." I said, not being able to comprehend the girls stupidity. "I'm going to go wash my hands of this weirdness." I turned from the beautiful girl and stepped outside, satisfied that she did not follow.

Through all my debaucheries, drinking and carnal activities over the years, it's nice to just be surrounded by nature. Growing up in a Native American Reserve, the nature was as much a home to me as a Nazi in 1940 Germany. The smell of fresh pine and the sounds of bird chirping was enough to send me on a nostalgic trip to my childhood. I don't often get the time to just enjoy a place like this.

Using my superior hearing, I found a small river where I could wash up a little bit. I took off my clothes until I was naked and plunged into the water, which was about waste deep. My chocolate brown hair turned almost black as it got wet, which I always kept long even against normal regulation. Currently it was tied in a short ponytail. My crystal blue eyes, which I inherited from my father, burned as they came into contact with the water. My reddish skin, which could also be mistaken for white in the correct lighting, glistened from my sweat and the droplets of water. It was cold at first but this was nothing compared to all my years of training, both in the Military and as a child in the Reserve.

For some strange reason I saw 2 reflections in the water, which looked to be the moon. Even though it is dawn out, during certain cycles of the moon it can be visible during the day in the early morning and evening. The strange thing is, there were 2 lights, one blue and the other red. You don't need to grow up in a Native American Reserve to know that there is only 1 white moon in the sky, sometime yellow.

Slowly lifting my eyes to the sky, my jaw dropped at what I saw.

"What the fuck?" I muttered to myself... Either I'm high, which is not that unlikely, or I really am dead.

**End Chapter 1**

And there you go, Chapter 1.

Please Review, thank you.


	2. Chapter 2: Foreigner in a Foreign Land

**Chapter 2: **

**Foreigner in a Foriegn Land**

"So do you still believe me to be mad?" Tiffania asked me as I sat down back on her bed, talking over the days events. It was still hard to wrap my mind around, that I was trapped in some kind of strange world which had very similar geography to Earth. I knew I was not high and sober because I felt completely awake and it should have worn off by now. As night set in I again looked to the sky and sure enough the 2 moons, 1 red and the other blue, were still there, as if mocking my sanity.

"I don't question your sanity, just my own." I admitted, still holding onto the idea that this was still just a dream. Tiffania just smiled at me and tilted her head before realizing something.

"By the way, I don't know your name." She said innocently, almost sounding like she was apologizing for her rudeness, even though I was clearly the rude one here.

"Because I didn't give it." I said a bit harshly.

"May I have the name of my rescuer?" She asked.

"Sherman." I replied in one answer. "As much as I appreciate your help I have to leave now, things to do and the like." I said, but Tiffania grabbed onto my arm before I left.

"Before you go, how about I help you get accustomed to the area, at least until you have a good idea of your surroundings." She said. I knew that it was a good idea to accept her aid for them moment, considering my lack of knowledge on how everything here works. Caving in, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and let her give me a small tour of the area. "Get dressed, I'll meet you outside." She exclaimed happily.

I still had my camo fatigues on, minus my shirt and only had on my undershirt. My black leather Jungle boots were on the ground next to the bed, so I decided to put them back on. No doubt I would need to get new clothes in order to better fit in around this place. I truthfully had no idea what their society would be like but I decided to just let the ball get rolling and hope for the best.

The last bit of gear I had that was useful was my K-bar knife and last Grenade, which considering my options for getting a new one were low, I decided to keep that stashed away. My body armor was in ruins and with so many bullet holes in it there was no real point in lugging it around everywhere.

Tiffania was waiting for me outside with a smile on her face and after jumping around for a bit out of excitement she told me to come along. We were heading to the city of South Gotha, which is where that I will get some supplies and hopefully get an idea of the worlds customs. I knew Tiffania didn't really believe me about other worlds, and thought I was still suffering from an injury, but I had a bit of respect for her after what she did for me. Which is pretty rare for people who know of me.

The city itself was far from impressive. Although I've never been to places like Paris, even a meager town from Earth was better than this dump. The technology looked like it was Colonial or Victorian and I swear that I could smell nothing but bad odor and rotting food all over the place. I suppose it did have its own charm though, I was used to bad smells from my days as a soldier.

"This is it, it's rather small compared to something like Londinium but it's a rather quaint place." She said, admiring the view a bit. There is one thing that confused me though.

"So why are you living alone in the forest? Why not live with your relatives?" She froze up at my question, as if she would get in trouble if she said anything. "You don't have to answer if you don't want." I said. I knew from my experience on the opposite side of the law where that look comes from. I honestly didn't care what she did or anything, whatever it was probably didn't effect me so who cares? She turned to me and gave a smile of gratitude at my understanding, though in reality I just didn't care.

"How dare you look at me Commoner!" I heard a pompous voice yell just up ahead. In front of me I saw a man dressed in fine clothing standing over a young woman who had 2 children with her. The man was rather ugly, dressed in a fine Military uniform and fat enough to mistake him for a blimp. He had a large fat double chin that looked like it was being supported by his massive neck, which jiggled every time he opened his mouth. I was amazed her could even see with his plump cheeks making it look like his eyes were squinted closed. Clearly this was a man of luxury who was pampered his whole life.

"Forgive me Milord." She begged as she bowed until her head touched the ground and her knees were firmly in the dirt. Her clothing, while not exactly bad, was somewhat dirty and ragged. I'd say she was on the lower end of the social spectrum but she was without a doubt beautiful. Her long pale blond hair almost appeared to shine in the sunlight, even though you could tell she was poor she still managed to make it look well kept and beautiful. After a nice bath to get rid of some of the dirt she would be a woman any man would die for. The 2 children, 1 boy and the other a girl, had many of her features and I could tell they were hers. The children looked no older than 7 or 9 and cowered behind their mother, following her example and kneeling in the dirt. The children had tears in their eyes and on further examination I could see a welt on her cheek.

"A Commoner like you doesn't even deserve to look at someone of my status, I should kill you where you kneel Commoner." He spat on the back of her head, which was still in the dirt.

"Please Milord, it was my fault, punish me and let my children go." She begged, not daring to look up for fear of angering him even more. Her children openly sobbed now, desperately holding onto the fabric on her hips.

"LT." The man barked to his LT., who was right behind him. "Take her away, I will deal with her personally myself." He grinned sadistically. The children held a tighter hold on their mother and buried their tear stained faces in her skirt. They could not fathom what was going on but I and everyone else knew what the man had in store for the beautiful young woman.

Tiffania grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away, wanting to avoid getting spotted and knowing that nothing could be done. I did not need her to tell me that this society was based off of a bullshit Caste System, where the Nobility rules over the Common class with an iron fist. His public display also confirmed my guess that this kind of act was legal, or if it wasn't than it wasn't enforced. Everyone cowered away, afraid that their heads would be put on the chopping block if they even so much as looked the wrong way. All their eyes trying desperately to look anywhere but the scene before them, the shame of not having the power or the courage to stand up to the man.

This is why I went AWOL from the Marine Corps, this is why I fled America and became a fugitive on the run. It was because of fat cats like this man, this disgusting rich man who thinks that he has the power to dictate another just because he has a high position of wealth and power. I shook off Tiffania's hand and looked on the ground, spotting a large rock, about the size of my palm, and bent down to pick it up.

"Don't do it." Tiffania whispered. "I don't like this either but there is nothing anyone can do against Nobility." She said, clearly being a witness to these events before.

The woman's hair appeared to turn dark brown in my eyes, her pale skin shifted to a red hue. In my eyes I saw my own mother getting dragged away by some redneck who thought the Indian Wars were more recent than 200 years ago. As the fat cat turned and walked away, the sobbing woman being carried right behind him, I chucked that rock with all my might. Tiffania gasped as the rock flew through the air and collided with the mans head, giving him a bad cut on his head and knocking him down.

Everyone gasped, the guards stopped and everyone looked at the spot in amazement. Whoever threw that rock was dead, they would be put through tortures more severe than can even be imagined. They believed newer and more terrifying methods would be created just to deal with the culprit.

Getting to his own feet, the Nobel turned in my direction and tried to pick me out.

"Who is the dead man that threw that!?" He screamed so loud I thought his lungs were going to fly out. The crowd was completely frozen, unable to comprehend what happened.

"Sorry." I said, walking up towards him, stopping just past the end of the crowd. "I missed." The man had fire in his eyes and I felt like the only reason I was still alive was because he was too stunned at what happened.

"What do you mean missed?!" He asked with venom in his voice.

"I was aiming for your Fat Ugly FACE!" I yelled the last words out, my face contorting into a feral position, ready to pounce on the man. By now his guards released the woman and made a wall right in front of him.

"You DARE!" He yelled back incredulously.

"Which is shocking because you're a pretty big target to miss!" I spread my arms out in an exaggerated motion to force my point.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed, still not comprehending the situation.

"The only thing that surprised me is how you didn't make an Earthquake when you fell!" I made an exaggerated motion of him falling. Given the terminology, I knew that Earthquake went over everyone's heads but they seemed to understand that it was an insult.

"KILL HIM!" He screamed at his guards. "I want his bones grounded to dust, I want his insides spilled on the ground and left to rot until even the BIRDS won't be able to stomach it!" He pushed his guards, only seeing red where I stood. I locked my eyes with the woman's and motioned for her to run. With everyone distracted she could escape no problem. She ran over to her children, disappearing in the crowd as the guards charged.

There were only 4 of them, 2 armed with long Halberds and the other 2 with swords and shields. I knew that my K-bar would not be nearly enough to stop them since I was at a severe disadvantage. Why did I not keep my mouth shut? It's not like I knew the woman anyway. Deciding to cut my losses I did the only sensible thing...

"Sorry, I was talking to someone else." I quickly said and turned tail and ran for it. If I was better armed than I would be able to handle it but there was no way I could take on 4 armored guards in nothing but glorified PJs and a butter knife compared to their weapons.

I jumped to the left, slamming into a fruit stand because I felt something coming at me. I realized when I landed that it was a trail of fire that came at me. I followed the line of smoke and it came from the fat mans hand... no, a stick in his hand.

"What the fuck..." I muttered.

"Now you will know the penalty of assaulting a Mage Commoner!" He yelled and more fire shot out in my direction. By this time everyone panicked and ran, some where caught in the crossfire (Literally) but all they got were some bad burns, nothing life threatening.

Thinking quickly I rolled over to avoid the fire, only to get kicked in the face from a guard who flanked me. His armor apparently didn't cover his crotch so I uppercut it and he doubled over in pain. I took out his dagger on his sheath and expertly through it at the fat Mage, which hit him in the arm but bounced off of him, leaving only a small cut.

"You drew my blood." He said in astonishment. "You disgusting inbred Commoner!" He yelled again, throwing more fire at me. I again rolled out of the way and this time he hit his own guard, roasting him alive.

"When they say you get burned they don't mean literally... FUCK!" I yelled as he shot at me again, lighting some buildings on fire and hitting some more pedestrians. Getting sick of this whole thing I ran into an alley and hopped a small wooden fence, knowing that I was far faster an more agile than he was... unless he could fly in which case I was screwed.

I must have ran to the other side of town by now, hoping to have gotten away from the crazy magic man. Speaking of which... magic, yea. Didn't see that one coming. Sitting down in a puddle of mud, not caring about my hygiene, I just sat there until the shock wore off. In the commotion I lost Tiffania but I knew she would be ok.

After some time I lifted my head and saw an Inn in front of me. Not wasting any time I stood up and went in, hoping that a good drink will calm my nerves. Who knows, I could even find some willing women in there as well.

The place was somewhat empty, a few men here or there chatting and a single waitress taking orders. When she saw me she smiled and motioned over to the counter. Taking a seat at the counter I was shocked when I saw the mother I just saved was also working there as well, as a bartender no less.

"You..." she muttered when she saw me.

"Yea, me." I replied cynically. "Don't suppose you could get my a bottle of your strongest stuff." I wasn't asking. I fully exploited the fact that I saved her to get a free drink. She nodded, knowing that she owed me big time and got me a bottle of what looked and smelled like gasoline.

Taking off the wooden cork with my teeth and hearing the satisfying "Pop" sound, I began to chug the bottle, even as she prepared a glass for me. I put the bottle down in front of me after a long sigh and closed my eyes, hoping that I would wake up from this nightmare.

"I would be that way too after ruining my life in that way." She said.

"Right..." I said, already feeling a bit lightheaded. "I saved your life and you say I destroyed my life?" I asked.

"That man was Alistair Duncan, a high ranking officer in the Albion Military. A LT. General." She said with her arms crossed. "He has a reputation of taking young women and ravishing them. He did always return them though after a night or two. I would have been in pain but I would have made it out with little damage. Now if he finds me again I really will die and you, I don't even want to think of what he'll do to you." I just brushed her off like a bad cold. I really didn't care right now, all I needed was to wash away my thoughts with this disgusting drink.

"You could always resist you know." I said.

"Then what?!" She yelled at me. "Risk my children, my business. Me and my husband have been trying to keep this place afloat since my brother died in the invasion of Tristain. I would have suffered but at least my children would have been safe!" She was on the verge of tears now.

"Than why don't you take that little ass of your and whore yourself out to him, I bet that would send a good example to your children!" I slammed my hands down on the counter. I heard a small yelp to my right and saw the 2 kids hiding behind a corner, looking at the display. "I don't fucking need this right now." I said and walked away from the woman.

I took a few more bottles and began to drink in a small corner. That was the last thing I remembered that night.

* * *

Next thing I know, I'm waking up in an old spring bed completely nude and with a throbbing headache. I tried to move my limbs but discovered that my right arm was completely numb. Fearing that it may have been chopped off I turned to see a beautiful face. Right on my side was the waitress from earlier, the one who was probably employed by the mother. She had a look of satisfaction and pleasure on her face as she slept.

Pushing her head off my arm, not giving a thought to waking her, I tried to sit up only to have the nausea and dizziness hit. The young woman woke up at the sudden move.

"Feeling better now, are we?" I heard a voice from the door. It was the mother who was standing there with her arms folded. I turned my head and saw that it was dark out, probably around midnight. The waitress blushed furiously at what happened.

"I am terribly sorry mam." She said, gathering the blanket and wrapping it around herself, leaving me completely naked.

"It's alright Cassandra, get some clothes on and after you do the dishes you can go home." She said with a caring voice. The woman nodded her thanks and left the room. The mother just stared at me, a look of disapproval and disappointment. "After that Lewd display earlier you say I set a bad example for my children?" She said, clearly annoyed.

"What happened?" I asked.

"What didn't happen, as soon as sunset hit and people came in you became an animal. Getting into fights and lusting over every woman you saw, the only reason I didn't kick you out was because a man who is insane enough to attack a Nobel clearly has issues." I chuckled at that. I always was a rowdy one when I drank.

"How is the man Maria?" I heard a male voice behind the woman. Her disproving look was replaced with one of happiness and love as a man who had blonde hair as well but tanned skin. The most noticeable thing however was his black eye, which looked rather recent.

"If you can get over his state of dress, he's perfectly fine." She said with an annoyed voice and walked away. I flipped her off as she went, both of them not understanding the gesture.

"I picked some clothes for you, with what happened before it's not a good idea to run around in such obvious clothing, especially ones covered in blood." He pointed to a pile of clothes near me. Fighting down the nausea, I got up and began to put them on. They were pretty simple, a white cotton long sleeve button up shirt, black trousers and a brown sleeveless vest. For footwear I settled with simple brown leather boots which came up to about mid calf. My trousers were tucked it and the white shirt was as well. The boots were a bit tight but they didn't feel too different than regular combat boots.

"Thanks." I said lowly.

"Johnathon by the way." He extended his hand in a greeting.

"I didn't ask." I brushed him off, walking out of the room with him close behind me.

"Not very friendly, are you?" He asked. My silence confirmed his guess. "At least let me thank you for saving my wife." I stopped and turned to him.

"You're not angry like she is?" I asked.

"While I am afraid at what could happen, the thought of what she would have endured pushed those fears down. Had I been there I would have done the same, at least I hope I would have..." He trailed off but then replaced his sorrow with a smile. "She probably gave you a hard time though. She's a good woman, willing to endure anything to protect our children. She may not show it but she is grateful. It's just her motherly duties that keep her from fully accepting you."

"Time for me to go." I said, having enough of this happy go lucky family.

"Before you do, at least here me out." The man said. Turning around again I motioned for him to continue. "Alistair has been tearing down all of South Gotha looking for you, he won't stop until he has found you." He said. "Stay here for a couple of days, at least until things calm down and he thinks you went to another town. When that happens you can leave, we'll even pay you for your work." The man said.

"And your wife agreed?" I asked.

"Well, I am the man after all, she'll listen to me." He laughed. Apparently this world is still male dominated but in this case it works out to be more beneficial to me.

"Alright, I guess I can stay for a few days." I said.

"Excellent, I'll get your room ready, but not this one because this is ours... which by the way you'll need to wash our sheets." He said a bit awkwardly.

"I'll get on it right away." I walked over the bed and collected the sheets. "Where's your washing machine?" I asked.

"Pardon?" He asked confused. I mentally face palmed at my mistake.

"How do you wash these?" I asked. Can't say I ever washed clothes by hand.

"You're kidding... right?" He asked, to which I glared at him. "Clara, come here darling." He called out to the door. Just then the young girl, who is the older of the 2 children and looked to be about 9, peeked her head from the doorway. She had on a small dress that reached down to her mid calf's and showed her forearms. She had the same pretty face as her mother and I could tell she would grow to be even more of a beauty than her. "Help this man with the sheets, will you my dear." He kissed the top of her head making her giggle.

"You would trust me with your child?" I asked.

"Of course." He said confidently. "If you meant us harm I doubt you would have stood up to a Nobel as you did to defend them." I have to admit I was feeling a bit guilty. The only reason I jumped in was because I hated the man. I saved the woman because the scene reminded me of my mothers death. Had it not then I would have just kept on walking, however I wasn't going to admit that. "Then again you did hit me in the face when I tried to stop you from coming onto my wife." He traced his black eye, which made me feel a bit more guilty. He turned and smiled though. "But you were drunk so I can't blame your actions too much... however I will have to kill you if you do that again." He put a hand on my shoulder.

"Fair enough." For the first time since I got here I let out a genuine laugh.

The little girl grabbed my hand and led me to the back of the Inn where a large bucket was, along with that thing you see people scrape clothes on in the movies to clean them.

I knew this was going to be a long day.

**End Chapter 2 **

Please Rate and Review, thank you.


End file.
